Cat and Bat
by therisingharvestmoon
Summary: Constance Hardbroom and Severus Snape share a love of discipline, rules and work ethic. Amelia Cackle and Albus Dumbledore share a love of lemon cheesecake. Mildred Hubble and Neville Longbottom are terrified. This is what happens when the Cackle's girls are invited to Hogwarts for a week.


_Hello all._

_This will be by first crossover fic, second Worst Witch fic, and I don't know how many-eth Harry Potter fic._

_I'm trying to emulate the lightheartedness of the earlier Harry Potter books, as well as the feeling of the Worst Witch TV series._

_I hope you enjoy!_

_x_

**~ Cat and Bat ~**

**1. Invitation **

A copious amount of tea was spilled in the Cackles' Academy staffroom as the door snapped shut. The three witches sitting by the fire place looked up to see the tall, straight-backed Miss Constance Hardbroom leaning against the door, looking distinctly ruffled. Tiny white flakes of snow were melting in her hair as she plucked her stiff, leather gloves from her hands, finger by finger.

"Cold out there?" Miss Davina Bat mumbled through a mouthful of sponge cake, licking jam and cream from her fingertips.

"Just … a… little!"

Miss Hardbroom enunciated each word, her glare boring into the back of her colleague's frizzy skull. Miss Imogen Drill smiled and looked away. Miss Amelia Cackle raised a diplomatic hand and smiled at her teachers.

"Were the girls causing you trouble, Constance?"

"They are _always _causing me trouble, Miss Cackle." She slumped into the chair at the end of the table, between Miss Drill and Miss Bat, reaching for a cup of strong, black tea. "No more than usual, I suppose!"

"It's this weather!" Miss Bat piped up. "Makes them more restless than a wood worm in a library."

Miss Drill nodded, her arms folded.

"Yes, I agree there. Almost none of the girls have been showing up to my dawn forest jog!"

Constance held her remark about sub-zero temperatures when she noticed Miss Cackle's was wiping scone crumbs away with her right hand, and opening a very official-looking letter in the other. She couldn't quite make out the shape of the red, wax seal from this end of the table. The others followed her gaze.

"This," Miss Cackle announced, pulling the parchment from the envelope and smiling in confirmation, "appears to be a letter from Hogwarts!"

Constance's heartbeat doubled with excitement and dread. At the same time, Miss Bat squealed "Ohhhh!" and Miss Drill looked perplexed. "Hogwarts? What on Earth is that?"

Miss Cackle smiled. "Ahh, not a what, Imogen, but a where! Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is one of the finest and largest co-educational schools for pupils of magic in the country. The Headmaster of which is my old friend, Albus Dumbledore."

Imogen didn't know whether or not to be impressed, so she shrugged. Constance remembered reading chapters in the school's textbooks by Albus Dumbledore. She had felt confused to say the least. She did not know how someone so brilliant could be so thoroughly _odd. _The very word was part of the school's motto, was in not? Her serious thoughts were interrupted by Miss Bat jumping up and down in the horribly squeaky wooden chair.

"Oooh, what does it say Miss Cackle, read it for heaven's sake!"

Adopting a serious expression, Miss Cackle slid her glasses up her nose and squinted at the handwriting.

"It's an invitation!"

Miss Bat, Drill and Hardbroom waited with baited breath at the end of the table, cups half-raised off saucers in anticipation.

Miss Bat was practically flapping her arms like her namesake. "Well? An invitation to what?"

"An invitation to attend a cross-school learning week!" She smiled from above the thick wad of parchment. "My good friend Albus Dumbledore is offering to host a select group of our girls and do a sort-of teach-a-thon." She consulted the letter. "The idea, I do believe, is for us to learn about magic with wands and the different ways they have standardised their spellcasting and potion-making up in the north."

Miss Drill raised her hand with a look of concern, but Miss Cackle interrupted.

"Of course, there will be the opportunity for fun and games, Miss Drill. While I think the flying lessons will be left up to Hogwarts, let me assure you, the grounds are quite expansive. And they also have beautiful Great Lake. If you were to promise not to get the students submerged in this weather, I do believe you can make use of, say, some kayaking?"

Miss Drill looked most impressed, containing her small smile.

Miss Bat clapped her hands. "Ohh, and what about -?"

"Professor Flitwick is the choir master at Hogwarts, Miss Bat." Miss Bat looked as though she would simply float away with glee. "I'm sure there is something for all of us. And we might even teach them a thing or two, eh, Miss Hardbroom?"

Constance blinked, and tried to supressed the smile threatening the corners of her mouth. Hogwarts! She had dreamed of seeing Hogwarts, and though she was not inclined to such fanciful imagination, she could not help thinking about what it would be like. But then… she was glad she did not have to teach such a large number of students. In classes that size, there was bound to be more than one Mildred Hubble-type figure.

"Yes, Miss Cackle." She brought her steaming tea cup to her happily pursed lips. "I do believe this will be a most fantastic prospect! For both our schools."

Constance was very looking forward to showing her skills off to such a prestigious wizard as Albus Dumbledore, to test herself and her girls against a bigger establishment. Her heart felt light and warm at the thought of her efforts being tested. To prove herself. She stood up so violently that her tea splattered over the grey and black chequered tablecloth.

Her dark eyes glowing, Constance smiled at Miss Cackle, responding to Davina's tea-drenched whimper by simply pointing her fingers and in a spark of blue light, Miss Bat was puffier than ever.

"There isn't a moment to loose, Miss Cackle! I shall have the girls up to scratch before long, just you wait." Her high heeled boots clacked across the stone as she stomped excitedly toward the wooden door. Before flinging it open, Constance turned, slowly.

"Wait a moment, Headmistress."

Miss Cackle smiled pleasantly. "Yes, Constance?"

"When will this so-called teach-a-thon be taking place?"

"Monday, Constance, we leave on Sunday afternoon."

"Sunday? _Sunday_?"

Constance's eyes bulged. Three days. They had _three days _to be as good as they could possibly be.

The door slammed behind her. Imogen and Davina exchanged a glance. Miss Cackle laughed.


End file.
